


All You Know About me is my Name

by DevinGaming



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Crying, Depression, Drinking, Multi, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, still don't know how to freakin' tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-26 08:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14398470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevinGaming/pseuds/DevinGaming
Summary: In which Michael writes a rant somewhere and it is found by the one person he didn't want it to be found by:Jeremy Heere.





	1. Player 2,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fucking love bmc fite me
> 
> Warnings:  
> -idk how to write michael  
> -this is all over the place  
> \- the next chapter will be writing, but i suck at writing actual stories so bear with me pleas XD
> 
> Enjoy!

If you were to say that Michael Mell is weird, Jeremy Heere would agree with you.

Not the  _you're a fucking freak, get the fuck away from me,_  or the,  _this is why you have no friends_  kind of weird, but as in his actions.

12 years of friendship thrown out the drain, completely ignored like he doesn't even exists, shut out by the only person he trusted, and that person not trusting them back, Jeremy was shocked, to say the least, when he woke up in a hospital bed and Michael was talking to him like nothing had ever happened.

The hoodie-wearing nerd never brought up the Squip after that. No conversations, questions, nothing. 

Jeremy suspected that he wanted an apology, but never gave one. The constant cut-offs and excuses to get away from the evil-computer conversations were always present, even if it was something indirectly related.

Besides, they were fine. Their friendship was rekindled, everyone else squipped put those bad memories behind them, so everything was fine.

. . .

Well, at least  _Jeremy_ thought it was.

 

* * *

 

Jeremy Heere clutched the pieces of paper in his hand. Michael's ever so messy handwriting was sprawled frantically across the crumpled sheet, written as if in a hurry and then thrown away afterwards. Random bits were scribbled out or rewritten.

He eyed the words suspiciously, curiously, and confusingly all at the same time, while scanning sentence after sentence, everything around him disappearing like he was in some kind of trance. He forgot that Michael left to go to the washroom and gets some snacks, and would most likely be back in around 5 minutes or so.

 

 _haha look at me,_ _fucking hiding out in a bathroom during one of the biggest parties ever._

_what if i just left? would anybody notice? would anyone care?_

_why did you leave me heere, jeremy? you know how bad my anxiety is!_

_i tried to talk to you, but all you did was ignore me. i'm trying to help!_

_everything was fine before you got that messed up super-computer thing. ~~i’m freaking thse heck oet out here  its so hot  ican't breathe~~_

_i found these sheets of paper in my pocket, i forgot where i got this pen from. i'm just trying to pass the time now, i think im just gonna stay here until the party is over. its not like I know anyone else i can talk to here_

_̡͟ ̶̢͞ ͠҉ ̶͝҉ ̴̷͝ ̢͢͡ ̨͞ ̶͠҉ ̷̧͝ ̕͏̨̛ ͘͞ ͘͜͏ ̛͞ ̷̸̸͠ ̸̷ ̛͞͏ ҉̴̨ ͟͡҉҉ ̵̡͝͡ ̸̶ ̸̡̛̛ ̵̨̨̛ ̛͟͡ ̨͡ ̨͠ ͠҉ ̴͟҉̷ ͘͝ ̸͏ ͘̕ ̶̧̧͟ ̶̴ ̕͝ ̵͠ ̵̵͘͜͞ ͘͞ ̵̨͢͠ ̡̛͢ ͞͝ ҉͠ ̛҉̛͘ ̴̸ ̢̢̡ ̵̷̸̴̢ ̡ ̴͟͢͜ ͢ ͘ ̵̷͟͠ ҉ ̨̛͟ ҉̢͏ ̶̧̕ ̡̧̧͘ ̵ ̨̧͝ ͟͠ ̷̢͏ ̵̢ ̸͡ ͏̡҉̡̕ ̴ ̵̸̶͝ ̡͡ ͜͝҉ ͟͟͞ ̶͟͟ ̸͜͠͡ ͠҉ ̸̷̕ ̷̴̴͞͏ ̸̢͝ ̶̕ ̷͜ ̶̡͘͜͏ ̶̢ ̶̕ ̶̡̛͞ ̷͟͞ ͏͜҉͡ ͜ ̵ ͘͝͞ ͏ ̵ ̸̨͞͞ ̷̸͟͠ ̧ ͡ ͏ ̸̡ ̵̕͜ ͘͜ ̶ ̛҉͜͡ ̷̢͘͞ ̶̷̢̧ ̸̧͝ ͜͢ ̧̢̛ ͏҉̛҉ ̷͘ ̸̢̡͜ ̷̛ ̵ ͏̸̶͜ ̢͡ ͏̛͟ ̛͟͠͞͡ ̸̛͠ ̕͘ ̛̕͘ ̛͟ ̸̷̢͢͝ ̸̷ ̢͜͢͝͠ ̢͢ ̴̡̡͜ ҉͡͞͠ ̨̧̢͢͞ ̴͘͜͠ ̛͞҉̨͘ ̡ ҉̵̢ ̨̡͞ ̶̡͟͞ ͜͡ ̴͜͞ ̧͟ ̢͡ ͢͠ ̷͢͝ ̢̨̢̡͠_

_my emotions are all whack, i need to rant or something_

_.._

_jeremy, we've been friends for 12 awesome years. does that mean nothing to you now? are you so blind by christine to see what shit you've done?_

_i don't want to sound fucking clingy, but_

_oh i just heard someone singing along to Whitney. remember when we used to make fun of drunk girls? are you so keen to throw away all those memories, just for what? Some girl to date you?_

_adf dude, bear does not help with anxiety attacks_

_i swear, if someone walks in and sees my crying, i'd rather say I was smoking weed or allergies or something_

_~~oh god everything hurts everythign is so loud i cant hellp~~ _

_~~i wish i never showed up to this stupid party, maybe jeremy wouldn't hate me. i wish this never happened how did everything go so wrong~~ _

 

Nearly half of the page is blank, Jeremy notes as he flips the pages, but the writing continues on the next sheet.

 

  _I wish things went back to normal. when we would just player video games in my basement, when you didn't want to be popular, when we were friends and you didn't cast me aside ~~like the garbage I am~~ like i didn't even matter to you._

_wait, yeah, i don't matter at all. i'm a loser. a fucking loser who only ~~has~~ had one friend that left because he realized that i'm so unimportant and he would do much better without me _

_this is the worst fucking night ever ~~i swear im gonna barf~~ i wish i stayed at home watching cable porn or some shit _

_anything would be better than having to deal with these fucking feelings._

~~_i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead i wish i was dead_ ~~

_remember that school day a few days ~~or was it weeks i cant remember~~ ago, where i said that there's never been a better time to be a loser? well fuck that. this is the worst time to be a loser._

_why wouyld you assume i was jealous? out of all the years i've known you, have i ever done something because i was jealous of you? ~~maybe i did but i cant remember why did i drink beer~~ i'm just looking out for the only person i can call my friend._

_you acted like those people who take one look at you, and assume stuff without bothering to get to know you._

_i hate you_

_i hate you so much_

_i go to one fucking party, and this is what i get_

_so glad i came._

 

Jeremy stared down at the paper. He didn't-

He didn't make Michael feel this bad,  _did he_ _?_

He was just- he didn't mean to- it was an accident!

Jeremy can barely remember the night. After drinking so many cups of beer to shut the super-computer up for just a few minutes, the recollection of what occurred were fuzzy. No matter how hard he tried to focus, to grasp the memories, they recoiled out of reach before he could comprehend a small part.

His vision blurred for a split second, the ringing sound in his ears getting louder and louder, almost blocking out the sound of the basement door opening and closing. His head snapped back, his eyes landing on the figure at the bottom of the steps. He could feel the paper crinkle under his tightening grip.

"Jeremy? What's wrong, dude?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wwell sHit this was trash


	2. Player 1,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy tries to talk to Michael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:
> 
> -I'm not an experienced writer yet, I'm just writing what my mind is telling me to. Which means this will most likely suck.  
> -also, i like imaging that Michael is smaller than Jeremy, so deal with it ;P
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

"Jeremy? What's wrong, dude?" 

Michael's best friend stares back at him, eyes full of tears and face red. The look on his face isn't the same one that he wore five minutes ago. It's a look that screams  _terrible something happened i'm so sorry_ , and Michael wants nothing more than to just go back in time and prevent Jeremy from feeling like that.

"I-I'm sorry- so sorry, M-Michael," he chokes out, and _shit_ , his voice cracked up. He hastily wipes his eyes along his blue sweater, rubbing out the tears only for more to spring up and cloud his vision.

"Dude, what's going on? You look like ass," Michael jokes, trying to lift up the tension because he  _doesn't understand what is going on at the moment!_

The only response he gets is a quiet wheeze, and Jeremy continues, "I-I didn't know I made you feel this way, of course you matter M-Micah, so many people care about you, you have no idea."

"I- what?"

He stalks towards Michael and yanks him into a hug, in which he hesitantly returns.

"I'm so sorry, it slipped my mind," he rambles on and presses Michael closer. "I forgot about how bad they got, I should've came back, I'm sorry."

Michael tries to wiggle his way out of Jeremy's grip, but it doesn't falter. "Uh-"

"It was the stupid SQUIP, that shit alien computer."

Now  _that_ reels in all of Michael's attention. If there's one thing he hates the most, it's that damn super-computer.

"Wait," he gently pushes Jeremy's chest, who gets the message and pulls away, and they stare face-to-face, "what are you talking about? And stop apologizing, you're starting to sound like Evan."

Wordlessly, the Jewish boy hands the papers to Michael, who takes them cautiously and scans his eyes over it.

". . !" His breath seizes up in his lungs. His jaw clenches and he can feel his body going stiff. Of course, Jeremy finds  _this_ in the 5 minutes that he was gone.

The sudden sound of paper tearing up fills the room. At the corner of his vision, Jeremy's eyes are wide and his jaw keeps opening and closing, trying to form words. Michael turns away as Jeremy suddenly lunges forward, trying to wrestle the remaining sheet out of his hands. By the time Jeremy finally turns him around, all that was left was small, jagged pieces of paper with now-illegible writing on it. 

The mess is shoved into Jeremy's hands and Michael takes off sprinting, because  _fuck_ , he thought he burned or threw those out but it turns out he just hid them under some controllers in his basement ( _way to go, idiot_ ). But he barely makes it 5 feet before a hand wraps around his wrist-  _ouch right over them_ \- and he's pulled back as a small hiss escapes him.

"Michael, wait!" He spares a peak at Jeremy, and immediately regrets it because he sees confusion, guilt, and sadness-  _is that pity-_  all wrapped in those ocean blue orbs. "Why are you running?! And- are you hurt?"

His grip is tightening and  _ow ow ow fucking shit-_ " _Let go of me!"_ He wretches his wrist free, despite his arm screaming protests in reply. He cradles his wrist now that it feels like it's on fire, slowly going numb, and he distinctly sees a line of red trailing down his hand. 

Jeremy saw it, too.

"Michael, are you bleeding?" He steps forward, and the red-sweater-wearing nerd takes one back. "Let me help you!"

Michael barks out a fake laugh, surprising his best friend and also himself. "Why should I accept your help, when you didn't even accept mine?!"

He turns and flees, and this time, Jeremy doesn't stop him.


End file.
